Dysfunction Palooza!

(I can't even take credit for the title, I stole it from PMDude at work.)

Which reminds me...I'm supposed to write a little diddy here about a certain writer in the UK who is dying to be memorialized in my blog. Rabbit...you got your wish. Now everyone who reads this blog will know what a fantastic writer, comedian, jack of all trades, the UK office is fortunate to have. Always quick with a quib or two and always picking on the PMDude...so for that...you get your 5 seconds of fame.

Now, on to more pressing matters.
Why Dysfunction Palooza...well I spent the weekend with "THAT" side of the family. See, for those of you who aren't aware, I have three families. The mother's side that I was born with. The stepdad who raised me side and the father's side I was born with.

Its the last of the three families that, well, leaves me wondering how I was ever part of that family. I traveled to Portland this weekend to celebrate the graduation of my youngest nephew from high school. My sister and I have never really gotten along nor have we ever possessed that "sister" bond. She was always angry and carried a chip the size of Texas around on her shoulder. To me, she blamed everyone else for her lot in life, except herself. She treated my mother poorly and that just doesn't go over well with me. In the last several years, mom and her have built a relationship. And for mom, I'm happy for that. While she and I have yet to build any relationship. To her I got everything, I am spoiled, I was given everything and never had to work for anything. Which anyone who knows me knows is a bunch of rubbish. I worked very hard to get to where I am and I take serious offense to anyone who thinks otherwise. (And if you do think otherwise, keep it to yourself).

So as you can imagine I was looking forward to this weekend about as much as a root canal. I felt dread from the moment I left the house to drive south. By the time I got to Portland I had worked myself up a bit, but decided to try to let it go. I also found out that my biological father was going to be there too. Which seemed okay, with the small exception that neither he nor my sister really got along very well. Both are one in the same really in a lot of ways.

We get to Sister's place and I was pleasantly surprised. She was nice to me. I mean genuinely nice to me. She smiled, she joked, she treated me like I was a sister, not some rash she needed to get away from. We joked many years ago that aliens had actually abducted my real sister and in her place put this thing. I mentioned to mom on my way home that perhaps the aliens have returned the real sister.

Whenever I'm around her, I am, however, reminded about how thankful I should be for the way I was raised, and the things that I've worked for to have. My parents raised me with manners, and dare I say a knowledge on how to socialize. It amazes me how two people can come from the same parents and be so very different. We are clearly evidence that nurture over nature prevails.

I'll post pictures of the gala when I can. Not too many people have ever seen a picture of me and my sister together actually smiling (aside from when we were very small and didn't know better).